Honor Comes from Blood
by Holly Jolly Rape
Summary: Jesse has her "American Dream." She has a house of her own, a job that she loves, and a decent boyfriend. When her boss sends her to Antarctica to find the rest of an alien object, things get... messy in her life.  Language, Rape, Xeno.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

Jesse was close to an ordinary woman; with many friends, a great job, and a... decent enough boyfriend, she had her "American Dream." She couldn't say that she had dreamed of becoming a compound chemisist for the military when she was little, but it wa s a job – a good paying job, at that, and she wasn't very disappointed that she didn't become an astronaut of some kind, working for NASA and going into space on a regular basis to help with the crisises on space shuttles.

Instead, she was putting on a pair of slacks and a button up shirt and some nice flats to head into work. She lived in Flordia, so a thick jacket wasn't needed, but possibly a sweater. She grabbed a gray, button-up sweater from the closet and slipped into it, making sure she didn't wake her boyfriend, still sleeping, as she left the house. She had a nice house, which she paid for. Two stories high with new roofing and a remodled kitchen – two bathroom, two bedroom with a dining room and an extra room the basement. Decent. Very decent.

Trent – the boyfriend – didn't have a job, which explains why Jess had to pay for the house by herself. He went "job-hopping," as her friends liked to say it. Jesse didn't like it very much; she had kept her job so far for four years, running, and the longest job he had kept was one summer at Burger King when he was 15 years old.

He got fired from stealing his boss's pot.

The story made Jess dislike Burger King – and all fast food joints – immensely.

The weather was starting to get chilly; the hot summer days had passed, and it was now the middle of fall, now getting colder as the autumn colors set in to the fashions, but not the trees.

She closed the door, locked it, and hoped to god – or the cosmos, since she didn't believe in god – that she didn't come home to a drunk or drinking Trent.

Jess turned back to the stairs that lead to her parking space, where her decently-sized car was placed.

That was a word to describe her life; "decent." Though "plain" and "boring" also did the trick, when she wasn't on a case.

Happily enough for her, that wasn't the case. Her mahogany hair was pulled back into a messy bun as she swerved through the traffic of the military base; she stopped at the appropriate stop signs, flashed her badge, and headed into deeper levels of the base. Her boss, Doctor Iverson, a tall, blonde woman who looked more like she was meant to run than to melt down components of weapons or rocks, was on a roll when Jess had arrived. The only think keeping the tall woman from running was her addiction to pain medication because of a pinched tendon in her knee.

"What's happenin', Doc?" she asked sarcastically, slipping on her medical coat and walking into the white room, where Iverson was darting back and forth from computer to labratory, labratory to microscope, microscope to computer, and then back.

"Now now, Jess," Iverson growled, waving her hand at her as she positioned her chemicals at her lab station, working on what looked like a large chunk of metal. When Jess took a closer look at it, it was glowing an orange color with intricate designs. "... Neon. What the fuck?" the blonde woman hissed, sitting up, "I'm not looking for neon, damnit, I've already got neon!"

"How can I help?" Jesse asked, seeing the obvious frustration on Iverson's face.

The doctor looked at her, "Do me this;" she said in an angry tone, "Go to fucking Antartica and bring me the rest of i_this,/i_" she pointed to the object on the table, "because those fucking Down's Sydrome retards can't do jack shit for me!" she shook her fist, making Jesse flinch; nothing that Iverson hadn't seen before. The blonde sighed,

Jesse's gray eyes looked at the object, watching it faintly glow, perpelxed that it could do just that – glow – without the help of electricity.

Iverson just sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, Jess, I'm just..."

"... Okay," she said quietly, looking at her overseer.

The doctor raised her hand from her face with utter frustrated confusion on her face; the fact that the deep rings around her eyes from lack of sleep and lack of taking her makeup off afte work didn't help. "What?" she said plainly.

"I'll go. I'll go to Antartica and try to find the rest of the... _thing,_" she said quickly, not knowing exactly what to call it.

Iverson paused before heaving a laugh; "What the fuck? Jess, you _really_ want to go to Antartica just because I'm a bit tired and jacked up on painkillers?"

"Why not?" Jesse answered, "I would be glad to go to extreme lengths for you; and what if we _do _find it? Then we can bring the entire thing back and do a complete report on it!" Jess looked ecstatic. There was no other word for the glint in her eye. Excited didn't fit, because that wasn't enough electricity of happiness flowing through the word; giddy wasn't going to cut it, because she wasn't giggly and bubbly, because that wasn't Jess; it was only ecstatic, the static-y happiness and excitement and giddyness combined together in one perfect stew.

Something only she could pull off. Iverson smiled, and reached over, clipping her chin with the edge of her finger; "Sometimes, kid, you're the one who gets me through the day."

Jess wasn't surprised at the comment. Instead she smiled and nodded, "I'll go ask the general if I can set up a squad to be sent up there with me."

Swiftly, she turned and left, leaving Iverson there to shake her head; "Poor girl doesn't even know what she's looking for yet..." the woman turned, looking at the metals on the table. "Hell, _we_ don't know what we're looking for yet."

Jesse was anything but happy. She had been declined a crew of anyone but Iverson and herself, but was allowed to go. What was she going to do with no team? She had just hopped in her car and left without reporting back to the blonde doctor; the general was probably already contacting her and bitching her out on giving her a "stupid idea."

Jess had arrived home, only to realize that her work had just started. Her job was the fun part of the day. Now came the gross insults and making dinner, taking care of the garbage, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, vaccuming, and making sure that Trent had taken a shower; if he hadn't, she would make him, and clean off the couch. She shook her head, not wanting to arrive yet. She should have just stayed back on the base. The base was so much nicer - cleaner and didn't call her stupid or retarded.

Without another concious complaint, she unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped out of the car. It was evening now, since most of her day was doing paperwork for Iverson in the back after she asked the general about her expedition. Jess just walked up the steps, unlocked the door and stepped inside. "Hello?" she called frailly. She hoped he wasn't here. Maybe she could sit and brood for a little while before he came home, let off some steam watching television, which he usually occupied.

With no such luck, he came from the back room, beer in hand; "Ah, baby," he smiled cheekily, "I've been waiting for you all day."

"I went to work," she said blandly, slipping off her shoes and hanging up her sweater in the closet. She walked inside, toes feeling the carpet beneith her feet. Anything was better than listening to him rant about how boring his day was, how there was nothing on the TV or radio, and reading was out of the question – Jesse didn't even know if he _could_ read.

"Are you even listening to me?" Trent growled, shaking his hand at her face.

"Of course I am, dear," she said subconciously, working on collecting the dishes; "You took a shower, right?"

"No, I woke up an hour ago. Why would I take a fuckin' shower when I'm not going anywhere, bitch?"

Another low blow to her ego; she thought cleanliness was amazing. She hated feeling greasy and slimy and gross. She had to take a shower – sometimes twice a day if she was up for it. "Maybe you should take a shower. Since I'm off tomorrow, I can help you look for a job."

"I don't want no damn job," Trent growled, scratching his chin, "Jobs are for women, like you, who keep me fed and healthy and clean. Maybe you should get into the habbit of giving me a spongebath. Ha! Like one of those old-man nurses at the nursing home. You'd be hot in one of those naughty nurse's outfits, don't you think?"

Jesse wasn't listening anymore; she slipped past him, heading into the kitchen; "Uh-huh. Sure. I'm doing the dishes now."

"That's right, bitch, do those dishes. You know you love taking care of me." Trent smiled; something told her that he was being sarcastic, but really, he wasn't. He was being cold and cruel and she felt dead and kicked. She wouldn't be surprised if she got raped next. He would probably ask for sex later that night, and not let her fall asleep until he passed out from having the usually-premature throes of his orgasm, leaving her at least a little hot and bothered from his small "equipment." Maybe four and a half inches. _Maybe_ five, if she felt generous enough to call him "average"_._

She shook her head; she wouldn't give in tonight. She couldn't. She didn't _want_ to. So she wouldn't. Jess told herself that time and time again; but the question still popped up in a growling voice that she couldn't place a finger on; she suspected it to be her concious. "Why did a pretty girl like you get pinned with a douchebag like him?"

"I don't know..." she murmured, hand scrubbing the grime away from the dish.

"You don't know if you want to have sex?" Trent growled, "Babe, I'm _huge;_ what dirty bitch wouldn't want to have sex with me?"

She looked back and gavehim an expectant look of "Go away." "I'm doing the dishes, Trent. Please, leave."

"I don't want to leave. Maybe I'll just take you on the counter right now."

"Trent," she growled, now fully turning her body, glaring this time; "Either leave me alone for the night or leave the fucking house."

He threw up his hands in surrender, "Fine; be a moody bitch. See if I care." He walked off, leaving her in the waves of victory. She had finally won. She didn't have to have sex with him, and he would obviously sleep on the couch. Jess turned back to her dishes, and continued on with them with a new vigor.

... And that's when it hit her.

A fist had hit her in the skull, and Trent was there behind her, struggling to hold her down to the counter. Jess squirmed, his greasy hand finding her mouth and covering it with a rag. Nothing was on it, surprisingly, but it was to keep her quiet.

"Shut up and enjoy it," Trent hissed, pulling down the back of her pants and her underwear, kicking the tight jeans to her knees while fumbling with his stained sweatpants and boxers. Jess just closed her eyes, trying to focus on the soap smell coming from the dishes before her. She couldn't even turn off the water with her body being pushed over the counter, pinning her arms between her and the expensive granite.

He rubbed against her folds, trying to make her make any sound; any sound to turn him on. A crack would do, but that would be counted as abuse. What fun would that be? Trent pushed himself inside her, not stretching her by much, but it was enough from his chode thickening from the heat she constantly radiated.

Jesse whimpered, not understanding why he was doing this. "No!" she cried from behind the cloth; "I don't want this!"

"I know, babe, tell me how big I am..." he said breathily, pumping into her sex like it was the only heavenly thing on earth. There were a lot more heavenly things than Jesse's sex. Trent just didn't want to explore far enough to find them.

Jess shook her head, trying to get her point across. Obviously, he wasn't watching, or paying much attention.

"Y-yes!" he cried, shooting his seed inside of her. He did this often, only because he wanted another reason for her to let him stay: a child would be the perfect excuse.

The entire act may have lasted five minutes. Seven at most. Jess often counted because nothing would pleasure her enough to get lost in it. It was just embarrassing to watch him and all of his gross, sweating body ache and arch. It made her want to look away and imagine something else; maybe if she had more time, she could get into an affair with something more satisfying. Hell, anything would be more satisfying than this slob.

He pulled his now flaccid penis from her sex, and stored it back where it blended in most with his flaccid body. "Now wasn't that nice?" he asked, pulling her up to a standing position, watching as the seed he had spilled into her, spilled out onto the floor and on some of her pants. She wasn't even crying. It hadn't hurt physically, just emotionally. Not even the punch had physically hurt her. It might have cause some bruising, but, if anything, it just stunned her when she wasn't looking to be jabbed in the head with a fist.

The wall of realization that she had just been raped by her boyfriend hadn't hit her yet. She knew it happened; she knew it was probably going to happen again; but she didn't care yet. Not yet.

"Now finish the dishes, bitch," Trent grabbed a beer out of the fridge and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her with her pants down, seed drying on her folds. She felt cold. Not tired or anything, just cold. She pulled up her pants and underwear, and resumed the dishes.

Jess didn't know how it came to be that Trent was coming with her to Antartica. It was her and Trent. Just her and Trent, and a few guys she had asked to help out with transportation and recording data. But it was her and Trent, practically, at all times. He was far too overprotective of her; both of the people escorting them and recording were men. Trent thought that they were threats, and kept on threatening them with glares and glances. When one started too long at her, he stepped in front of her and blocked their line of sight.

Seclusion. She hated being alone with Trent. Though he was nicer in public, she was starting to feel grossed out by his incessant attacks on her pride. Calling her "bitch" and other nasty words when the others weren't listening or looking – or at least when he thought them not to be.

She hopped onto a snowmobile with her coworker, and then was just as quickly pulled off of it; she looked back to find Trent grabbing her hood and holding her back away from the other man. "I'll take her on _that_ snowmobile."

"You don't even know how to start a snowmobile, Trent. Let Luke take me, and Peter will take you," Jesse said, pulling her hood away with a shoulder to his hand.

"No, Je-"

"_Trent,_" Jesse growled, "I'm going with Luke. I'd rather not crash and die." She straddled the seat to the snowmobile, holding onto Luke's jacket before he took off, leaving Trent behind in the snow dust. She looked back to see him having a temper tantrum, and swing his fist at Peter – a big burly man with dark brown hair – who dodged agilely. Peter took him down, probably telling him to calm down or to stop being a baby. With a roll of her eyes, she looked to the head of the vehicle again; she wasn't going to look forward to spending more time with Trent when he showed up.


	2. I

Chapter One:

Akan'de. A cliche warrior, with pride and honor, and would do anything to keep those two things intact. His eyes a deep golden color, and skin a dark burgundy with white stripes following certain patterns all over his body, in the same colors as a lionfish. His hair was the most midnight black, and talons were almost always shined as their natural color, white.

He stood at the entrance to his ship, glaring down at the end of his spear. "Pauking thing," he growled, pulling the sharp knife from the hard meat's chest, it hissing and flailing, flicking its tail from side to side trying to find something there... something real. It rolled to its side, and then it's stomach, hissing and crawling away. "Cause me trouble, I'll cause you trouble..."

"Akan'de!" a different Yautja called, making him turn, gold eyes glowing gently; a dark gray Yautja stood tall, angry, breathing heavily, "The clan ship isn't here."

"... They left us?" he asked.

"No, they went to go find some new species to slaughter - _of course they left us,_" the gray one hissed, "They left us here like bad bloods! _Pauk!_" he kicked the ground with furiocity, snow flying in every which direction.

"Don't get angry with me, Nihkou'te!" Akan'de shouted, "...You just can't keep a level head, can you?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"How can _you_, Akan'de? We were left here! This back-water planet with no sustinance and no way to survive! They _betrayed_ us!"

"They did not betray us!... C'jit, Nihkou'te," he turned, looking down at his prey. "We can look for a Ooman civilization. There ought to be one around here somehwere."

Nihkou'te looked down at the hard meat. "... So you killed one? A hard meat?"

"Yes," the lion fish-colored Yautja knelt down, pulling out his knife and started to cut off the head; "This is my second one." He motioned to the marking on his mask, a T-shaped marking, and then went back to work.

"Ah," the other said quietly, "I..."

"Didn't get one. I noticed," he said, looking up one more time, "You're lucky you're not dead, Nihkou'te. Yunise'ta killed five of them, you know, and then got killed." One hand firmly planted on his knee, and the other on the butt of his knife, inbedded in the beast's neck, he looked threatening. "You still have one more chance. There's seven of them."

A thick chest rose, angry again, "There's no use. We've been-"

"Shut up," Akan'de growled sternly, standing up and turning, knife pointed at the other with puke-green blood dripping down to the hilt, sizzling and hissing. "We have _not_ been abandoned. You will not insult our clan. Stop or leave, Nihkou'te."

He withered, and ceased his behavior.

Akan'de huffed, "Paya, you're a handful... The only probable reason that the clan ship hasn't appeared for us - or shown up - is because there's still one hard meat down there, that _you_ need to kill."

Nihkou'te refused to open his mouth and click his way into his grave, where he surely would have ended up if he woud have said the things he had wanted to.

With another quick turn, he knelt down and chopped off the rest of his prize's head, making sure that the brain came with the rest of it when he pulled the now-empty skull off. He picked it up and displayed it to his comrade, it being placed on his hand like a puppet. His laugh was rumbling through his chest, as he shook his head; "The other one was bigger. But I didn't know. This will have to do."

"You're very humble," Nihkou'te murmured.

Akan'de snorted, coming out as a humored growl, "If you think I'm humble, you should really look up the meaning of humble, bhe'ru." He raised his prize and looked at it from the underside, scritinzing every last detail. "We should get headed out soon, to look for that Ooman civilization..."

Nihkou'te was surprised at the affectionate term he was called by his comrade, "Bhe'ru?"

Akan'de looked over at him, eyes glimmering with some kind of content for a moment before turning into the same hard gaze, "Yes. Now let us go, Nihkou'te."

Peter and Luke had left, saying they had forgotten something back at the camp. Jess was to be left there with her boyfriend. Though they had set up an ice house with a heater and a few chairs, the only other thing that was keeping them from freezing on the ice was two thick blankets, both of which Trent was using, and the walls. Jesse was prone to cold most of the time; she had grown up in a colder place – not as cold as Antarctica, but still quite cold.

Trent couldn't stop swearing; his mouth kept rambiling on and on about pointless things. She stopped paying attention, but was looking his way, out of the door, trying to look focused on something – she hoped he thought it was him.

But something shined from outside, looking as if it were something metal stabbed into the ground. Her eyes twitched to a curious look, which Trent caught relentless of her silence. He stopped talking and watched as she got up and left the ice house. "Wait -what the fuck? You're going to die out there! It's fuckin' freezing!"

Jesse didn't say another word. The hat she wore was knit and tight on her skull; she was wearing three pairs of pants relentless of what Luke and Peter said: To wear four.

"Jesse, what are you looking for?"

The winds hadn't picked up yet, so she didn't pull up her hood. Instead, she knelt down, trying to find the shiny thing that looked like it had been stuck in the hard ice-snow. Crawling a little farther, she found it. It was a knife, with a bone-looking hilt. She sat down on her knees, grabbing the hilt of the knife and pulled it out of the ice. Trent was obviously as into the find as she was.

"What did you find?" he asked.

The pattern on the knife was intricate; Jesse had never seen anything like it before. She held it in her gloved hands, the large weapon, about the size of her forearm; it was light, like aluminum, but from looking at the ice, it cut like diamond. Smooth as silk. She suspected it would cut through diamond. She set the knife on the ground carefully, and took off her hat and gloves, pulling back her hair and putting it up in a messy ponytail.

"Hello? What ya' find there, Jess?" asked Trent from the ice house.

"The same thing that I've been 'finding' for the past twenty, plus, minutes, Trent. Please, stop asking," she put her gloves back on and picked up the knife before she looked back to see his seemingly-always frustrated face becoming contorted with some kind of disappointment.

"I came all the way from Florida to fuckin' Antartica with you to search for treasure, and all you have is the same fucking thing," he growled.

Another fight. Wonderful.

"I told you, you didn't have to come with!" she stood up and waved the blade around, the hilt in her hand; "But you _refused_ to listen to me! This is what we came for, Trent. _This._" She shook it once, twice, and something snapped. Her eyes flickered to her hand, and she saw that the blade had switched from its normal knife-like state to something that reminded her of a Japanese shuriken, round and pointed in all directions. A blade had come out the other side of the hilt, and she was glad she was holding the correct way The intricate patterns were not only on the main blade she had seen before, but now on the rest of the blade.

"Whoa," the man leaned forward in his chair, looking at the blade, "Did you break it? Bring it here!"

"Oh, Jesus, I hope not..." she ignored the next part of his sentence, to turn around again, sit down and cross her legs indian-style.

"Bitch, I said bring it here," Trent growled. When he got no reply, he stood up, "Jesse, bring it the fuck here, I want to see it!"

"_No_, Trent!" she turned her head in his direction, glaring just as he was glaring at her; "Fuck, just sit down, you don't know how to do anything, do you?"

He growled, no words coming from his mouth as he came out of the ice house and raised his hand, only to bring it hard against her face, gaining a sharp snap and a little cry coming from her. "Bitch! I know more than you do!" he hit her again, this time making her fall.

"T-Trent!" she gasped, spitting a little blood onto the icy floor of Antartica; one of her teeth had been knocked loose, though not completely out.

"You don't have the fuckin' right to say my name anymore!" he kicked the knife out of her hand, it sliding against the ice, and then proceeded to stomp on her diaphram, making her cough and sputter. "You whore!"

Jesse lay on the ground, feeling more lifeless than ever; this wasn't the first time he had hit her, kicked her, called her names, but he had never called her a whore before. _Whore._ Such a dirty word. How sick. The word made her feel dead.

"You hear me, Jesse!" his voice was loud and clear, "_Whore!_ A fucking whore!" he knelt down, "Why don't you do some fucking good?"

Jesse pushed herself up to her elbows, shaking; she knew what he was going to do. She flopped onto her stomach and tried crawling away, scared and unknowingly slithering closer to something bigger. Something a lot scarier than a rapist or an abusive boyfriend.

Trent grabbed her ankles and pulled her back, her nose hitting the ice and making it start to bleed; she could feel his dirty hands gripping her waist and holding her there, tearing off her snow pants and then her jeans, her long johns and then the cold ice hitting her bear thighs, and knees. "N-no," she sobbed, "No!"

And as fast as it started, it was over. Her head swiveled slowly, eyes looked at him to find that the weapon she had just found had imbedded itself in his chest, where he was clawing at to get the weapon out. She noted that some bright green liquid was in all of the crevaces of the pattern. She didn't stop to investigate; instead, she struggled to pull up her pants and snow pants, and kicked herself away from him. She lifted herself up from the ice and ran in the opposite direction, watching over her shoulder as he looked up worriedly, pleading with her silently, as if she were to run back and save him.

She turned her head back to in front of her, and ran into something thick, solid. Her nose had cracked against something metal, making it ache even more, and probably become broken. Jess couldn't feel it anymore, so she knew that that was a bad sign. She fell back against the ice, and decided she didn't want to open her eyes. She had fallen unconcious.

"How sick," Nihkou'te growled, "They may be a different species, but how dare they defile their women in such a disgusting manner," he picked up the dead body of the male ooman and dumped him into a pile of garbage that the oomans had made. The garbage looked like wrappers of snacks of some sort. "They _are_ garbage," he mused to himself, snorting.

"Nn," Akan'de nodded slowly. His eyes looked over the woman; her nose didn't look straight at all, and he didn't think that would be the best for her health. They had already wiped off most of the blood with cloth from the male's body. His clawed hands reached down, running his fingertips over her skin, down her cheek and across her jaw, only to come back up and take a firm hold on her nose. He pulled it up, and pushed it so it would be straight again. She groaned and squirmed in her coma-like state, obviously in pain.

"Is the child-bearer healthy now?" the other Yautja asked, looking over, the weapon that killed the male in his hand.

"... Not healthy. She will be _okay _for now," Akan'de said, standing up, "We could get to to lead us back to a civilization." He looked up, tube-like hair falling over his shoulders.

Nihkou'te looked her over, "She's..."

"I know, bhe'ru. I say we take the sled and we carry her along until she wakes up," he pointed vaugely to the large black sled with high sides that was inside the small building they had set up on the ice.

"She would be far too much of a hassle if she tried to run from us," Nihkou'te growled.

"If she tries to run, we let her run. We could also use the sled to carry my trophy and any meat that we happen to come across," Akan'de looked down at her, watching her begin to shake. "She's becoming cold," he murmured, "She will die if we don't do something. That's just as bad as killing her, Nihkou'te."

The Yautja growled, then turned swiftly, taking the sled out of the ice house and throwing it down; "Just put her in. We'll head west for the rest of the night, but _if she dies,_ Akan'de, it's on _you._"

Akan'de nodded, and slipped his hands under her knees and back, lifting her up. He pushed himself up and then put her inside the sled, only to head back inside the ice house to look for more heat. He found two blankets, a chair and some food, along with a heater that was attatched to the ice house. The heater wouldn't do, but the blankets would help. He grabbed them and put them in the sled, tucking them in around her. He put his trophy in with her, right next to her head, so it would block some of the wind.

Nihkou'te dug through the snacks, and stored some of them in the sled. Akan'de looked suspiciously at them, not daring to pick them in case his bhe'ru would be protective of them. "They smell like sugars," he said, picking up the rope and starting to pull the female ooman, his trophy and the the little food they had, along, following Nihkou'te.

"They are sugars," he turned his head, his mask tilted up enough to show his mandlbiles holding the food close to his mouth, eating it. It had some grainy, granola-like substance packed together with more sugars, and had chunks of other sweet substances. "Want to try some?"

"_No,_" Akan'de said sharply.

He turned again, now done with the bar, and put his mask back on, "S'yuit-de."

Jesse awoke to find her arms bound and nose aching. She was warm, though that was nice, but it didn't smell that great. Something was making her nose burn with a rotten-smell, and another that smelled like what her father's garage used to smell like when he brought home some some type of game, usually deer. She didn't open her eyes, though. She didn't want to wake up to find herself mutilated, and the warmth was actually her blood staining some type of covering. Maybe she was already dead, or on the verge of it.

She let out a shuddering breath, which turned into a cough. The smell had become even stronger, and now stung her lungs and throat. She tried to sit up, wanting to cover her mouth with something. She moved her hands, rubbing her fingers against each other and her palms. It was warm and wet, almost a little sticky.

"B-blood," she whispered.

She started to thrash, still not daring to open her eyes. She screamed and kicked, feet hitting something hard, and body being pinned down by some heavy thing; probably dead. Probably Trent. Jess didn't know. Jess didn't want to know.

Jesse kicked up, and her foot broke loose from the iron hold of the weight, and kicked something solid and metal. "No!" she cried, angrily, eyes shut tightly.

"_No!_" she heard the echo of her voice, and then deeper; "_No!_"

Another kick and she heard something crack and growling from the being.

She heard loud clicking and words that she didn't understand, and the weight was off of her, being thrown somewhere on the ground, and she was being lifted up like a child, thumbs right under her armpits, pulling her into some comforting hold where arms were wrapped around her, one arm under her rear as her legs straddled a large waist. It was cold, which meant they were still on the tundra of Antartica, or at least somewhere cold. Someone, or something, since she really had no idea what she was quite up against (literally), came up behind her, and something rumbled through her... Like a purr. It was... comforting, though it reminded her of a cat. She was alergic to cats. She didn't understand why the beings were _purring_ to her, but it was making her calm down. Maybe that was their goal. So she didn't kick and scream and give them a headache - though Jess was a headache in herself. She groaned softly to comply to the being's tactfulness. Something weaved into her hair, and rubbed at her scalp, which felt sticky from the blood. Her ponytail was still in, but was removed swiftly to have another something weave into the back of her head of hair, rubbing her aching head. The thing in front of her started to purr deeply as well.

Her core started to relax, the sweet vocal vibrations ringing within her, meeting in the middle and then spreading like a heatwave through her body. When she tried to open her eyes, she couldn't, muscles not working, like her body was asleep, but her mind wasn't "shut off" like the rest of her.

She became limp, and the pressure from both sides of her disappated, purring continuing. She was placed back in that warm place, though this time the heat came from beside her, and, what felt like a blanket, came down to keep her warm again. The purring stopped, and she heard, barely, "Hulij-bpe lou-dte kalei."

Having no idea what it meant, she just breathed slowly, trying not to puke from the smell, just trying to enjoy the warmth and the feeling of peace that eminated from her core, given to her by the strange purring noise.

With a light jerk, the thing she was set in started to move again. She was glad whover - or whatecer - was helping her was doing just that. If she had been left out there, she would have died.

"Thank you," she murmured unconciously. "Thank you so much."

"_Thank you so much,_" she heard, that same voice she had used. "_Thank you. Thank you so much."_

"_Thank you,_" deeper, gruffer. "_Thank you so much._"

She didn't know why she was thanking them, whatever they were. There were two of them, she was sure of. She was starting to regain feeling in her body, Her nose started to ache again, and her body was tingling from the vibrations. She shook her head, and tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn't budge just yet. Maybe they had frozen shut.

... Too many maybes for her liking. She liked answers.

She moved her hands up to her face, trying hard not to get any blood in her eyes as she warmed them up; they were frozen. She opened her eyes to see the insides of her hands; they light peered through spaces between her fingers, and bounced off her red face to illuminate the cavern she made for herself. It was red. It was blood. Jess moved her hands away from her eyes and looked at the heat source; being used to game from her father's garage, the caribou with a hole in it's head didn't bother her. Instead, it was the strange-looking skull that was on top of it. She jumped back and screamed, seeing the elongated head with no eyes and strange, dull-looking teeth staring a back at her. The thing she was in - the sled that had been in her and Trent's ice house - tipped over on her side, and blood came pouring out of it along with her. Steam came up from the hot blood hitting the cold ice.

"C'jit!" one of the beings yelled, drawing her attention to them. Jess' eyes widened even more. The one that had yelled was dark gray, and was moving towards her swiftly. The other one looked like a lion-fish - or at least had the coloring of one - and held the rope to the sled with . Their hair was dark and tube-like, like dreadlocks, and had small bones or ordiments of the same coloring or gold, bronze or copper in them. Their armor wasn't the most beautiful, but it looked strong. It was a chest-plate with large shoulders, wrist bands and a mask, along with an armored looking loin cloth. They had weapons on their waist and back, and she was surprised she didn't feel them when they had picked her up. The rest of their bodies were practically bare, which that is where she saw the markings on their bodies; the only thing covering them was a fishnet-esque material. She could tell, though, that they both were obviously male. Startled, not knowing what to do as the monster neared her, she screamed even louder than before.

Both of them froze, chests expanding and them letting out a long, hard purr, obviously trying to calm her down.

"What the _fuck!_"

"_No!_" the grey one voiced, loud and commanding, making her freeze. "_No, no, no!_"

"_Thank you. Thank you so much._" The other one said quietly in her voice. For some reason, she felt like she had had her voice stolen.

"Just shut up!" she snapped, angry now. She didn't like this. Jess didn't know what to do; she didn't even know what their faces looked like from behind those damned masks. They didn't say anything after that, but the gray one neared her even more, taking another heavy step.

Her dark grey eyes were flicking from one to the other; "No!" she cried, as the grey one got close enough to touch her. She pushed herself back and back and back, kicking the ice again and again, trying to get away. A taloned hand reached out and grabbed her jacket pulling her back toward the sled. The one carrying her wasn't purring. He was yelling in his strange language at the other one, apparently angry. He lifted her up by her collar, shoving Jess into the other's chest, yelling some more, threateningly as he just closed in and yelled a little bit louder.

The other one just kept purring, ignoring what the other was saying - whatever he was saying. The vibrations from his chest made her nose ache, and she cried out faintly, reaching up and holding her nose in her hands.

She was scared. Not knowing what these things were, not knowing what they were saying. They didn't seem like they were trying to help her, this time, putting her in a bin where there food was, and whatever the fuck that skull was. Jess just hoped she would get out of this male's hold soon, so the yelling monster would stop.

With a dry sob, arms turned her around like a child wanting to be coddled; her head was forcibly pushed into his neck, purring sound being caught there and vibrations shaking her head. She felt as if her head was going to explode from the pure peace surrounding it. Her coddler stopped purring for only a moment to say something in an angrily hushed tone, like a mother would say to an angry drunkard father to try to get him to stop yelling to get the baby to stop crying. Though, this baby was getting a rush.

Her body started to heat up, breathing becoming fast; her nether-regions started to pulsate lightly, but not become wet. She questioned her sanity, having seen these monsters, being held so close to their scaly chests and she was getting hot. Maybe it was the fear that turned her on, or the thought of their size or exotic genitals...

This was that rush that she was looking for, that Trent couldn't give her.

_ "Oh, god._"

As the two began to bicker, the purring becoming short bursts of hard vibrations between illegible words, that's when the first drop slid from her lower lips and her mouth began to water, head in a daze.

When the two stopped bickering, she knew she was in for something; be it good or bad.


	3. II

Chapter Two:

Through the thick smell of the blood of the caribou behind them, they could smell that the small female ooman was awakening. They didn't want to disturb her, but when she started to scream and kick, Nihkou'te flipped out, grunting and clicking with much interested and worry. He rushed back like a mother would to its suckling, and Akan'de stood back, watching as Nihkou'te had to take a step back – apparently, from the foot that came into view, she was kicking. She had kicked him in the chest, and the next one hit him square in the jaw. He turned around and hissed, lifting his mask and growling as he felt his broken mandable.

"Pa'uk!" Nihkou'te shouted, moving his madable carefully, before sliding his mask back over his face, and turning to the ooman. He grabbed the caribou and pulled it off of her, throwing it to the ground, before reaching down and slipping his hands under her arms, lifting her up like a child. He grumbled as he walked over to Akan'de, who was setting down the rope to the sled, already knowing his job. The ooman was forced into his arms, where she was coddled roughly. She didn't have any straps of sorts to tell her of her bad behavior, so instead he clicked his warning. The ooman didn't realize it was a warning.

Nihkou'te walked back to the caribou; it was almost his size, and the hole in its head meant that he couldn't use its skull as a trophy. It was all too bad – those horns would have done him some good, though they were very maliable compared to some of the components he knew of. He grabbed the large horns and pulled it up above his head, flopping it down in the sled with the blood it had shed and the kainde amedha head Akan'de owned. His chest swelled with jealousy, but walked back over to the ooman and his comrade. "You should feel lucky," he growled, coming up behind the ooman and pressing his chest against her back, "She didn't break your madable." He started to purr deeply, making the little ooman groan.

"It makes you look older. Wiser. The Yautja females back home will think it's impressive." Akan'de said with a smile behind his mask, but his tone was all the emotion Nihkou'te needed to see. He reached up and ran his tallons through her hair, soft and silky despite the blood, leaving them there started to purr as well, feeling the vibrations that the still-young blood was giving off and radiating through her. Now the vibrations bounced against each other, to her weak pyode amedha flesh and then through her organs.

Nihkou'te, seeing the interesting strings of hair, decided to pull out the hair tie – very bland, unlike his kind's hair bands (made up of string and bone and shiny trinkets), and made of some type of stretchy material – and wove his fingers into her hair as well, feeling the sticky scalp from the blood and the soft locks that went along with it. He purred louder at the feeling; nothing in his world felt this soft, especially on a female. Even her bloodied scalp felt softer than normal Yautja skin.

When the female became limp between them, now that they were fully statisfied from playing with her hair, Nihkou'te backed away and watched as Akan'de almost gracefully walked over to the bin and set her down, taking the blankets and throwing them over her, not stopping his incessant purring until she was settled. The caribou was now to her side, so it wasn't on top of her. He grabbed the skull and placed it on top of the caribou, out of the way of the little ooman.

"Crazy child-bearer," he said gruffly.

Her breathing was steady, but she wasn't quite asleep yet. Her mind activity was obviously spiking, watching a finger or a cheek twitch. He only watched her for a moment, and then head back to the rope, grabbing it and lifting it up again, pulling it slowly along with his walk. "You're possitive we're headed west?"

"As positive as I can be," Nihkou'te said, "My visor tells me that we are."

"My visor tells me we're going North," he said, looking over at his comrade; "Maybe you should let me take a look at your visor when we get to a civilization..."

"If we do," Nihkou'te now sounded worried this time around. If they were heading north, they were surely going to run into the ocean, and neither of them dealt with water very nicely. Back on their home planet, there were no such things as oceans. There were waist-deep lakes of pure, clean water that stretched for about an asa, and swamps and sand traps. No oceans. Nothing that went over their heads, or at least too far over their heads.

"Oh, just shut up, Nihkou'te."

They traveled along in silence for a while, until the ooman murmured something, that Akan'de recorded with his mask. "Thank you. Thank you so much," it said aloud. He repeated it, looking at Nihkou'te, who gave him a click of approval.

"You sound like an ooman, bhe'ru. Impressive."

"Hn."

More silence. Nihkou'te looked back at the female often, keeping an eye on her. He lifted his mask and started to massage his mandable, making him hiss and groan quietly. "She kicks hard, like a strong Yautja woman."

Then she screamed. Both of the Yautja men turned to see that she had spilled the red blood from the sled by tipping it on its side. The blood was surrounding her, steaming from the heat when it hit the ice, turning it a deep, close to red, pink color. Her eyes were glued to the kainde amedha head that had been placed next to her. When she realized she wasn't alone, the woman turned to the two Yaut men.

She was silent for a moment, looking them up and down; they started to purr, Nihkou'te closer to her, so he started to reach out slowly. "What the fuck?" she cried, feet kicking hopelessly against the slick ice.

They started speaking her language to her, since the purring obviously wasn't going to work anymore. "No! No, no, no!" Nihkou'te snapped, trying to scare her into submission, as Akan'de repeated the words she had said before. Her eyes went wide, her bloodied hair sticking to her face, body moving – or at least trying to – faster and faster away, away from them.

"Just shut up!" she snapped at the two, as Nihkou'te finally got into snatching range. He was getting frustrated; it reminded of him during the hunt for their Chiva. She kicked at the ice again, digging her heel into the ice once and pushing herself away far enough that the grey Yautja stumbled a little as he tried to grab her. With another step and a grab to her coat, he was growling and clicking his way to Paya's sancutary; "Pa'uk-de... C'jit, this is why I hate oomans!" He turned around and glared at his comrade. The lion fish colored Yaut man flicked his head, coaxing him over with his arms withdrawn a little, as he was willing to take the ooman.

"Paya... You're a fool for persuading me to let her come along," he growled, picking her up by her collar and walking over to the other Yautja. He was actually being quite gentle with her; but with her struggling, trying to get away by kicking the area around her, he had to hold on tighter.

Without a word,, Akan'de took her into his arms, making her wrap her legs around his waist, and holding her like a child. His clawed hand came up, and found her scalp and hair again, but instead of being gentle, he pushed her head into his neck, to stop her from whining any longer. He started to purr loudly, the deep rumble quite obviously making her go lax.

"And you ignore me," Nihkou'te said louder, eyes narrowing and puffing out his chest. He was ready to fight about this.

"Shut up, already," he hissed, glaring at Nihkou'te, glaring at the other before he started to purr again.

"Says the weak one! We should have left her!"

"Weak! _Pauk-de!_ How dare you call me weak, you Unblood!"

The bickering continued between them, becoming worse and worse with language; Nihkou'te had raised his fist to Akan'de, only to be stopped by a smell that made him step back, it was so strong. Neither of them said a word, not even a sound. They knew what it was; the ooman had just gone into heat.

Akan'de didn't move. If the female didn't accept him, and he made a wrong move, there was a possibility that he would be maimed, or seriously injured; she was so close to his neck. So close to such a vital area.

"... Akan'de. Set her down," Nihkou'te warned. "She cannot hurt us, she's an ooman. An inferior race – you saw how that male treated her; she could not even hold up her own body."

With a gentle shove, he tried to force her off of him. She was attached thouroughly; the female wasn't coming off any time soon. Maybe this was the way that the oomans mated. He had never seen it, but he had heard stories from some of the a'suh'ssi'asas that passed through the clan ship, where the females rode the males like wild beasts in unfathomable places, and clung to them, also describing the smells. The way she held him, and the way she smelled was more than enough to convince him.

"Nihkou'te – shut your mouth! You know nothing of this race, and neither do I!" he snapped, glaring at him from the other side of his mask and clicking his mandables in warning. He wasn't proud of himself, getting the two into a"... We... we do as she pleases, for now."

"i_We?/i_"Nihkou'te growled, stepping back, "What do you mean 'we'?"

"As in, we both..." Akan'de wasn't sure what they were supposed to do. As newly-blooded warriors, he could only think so much of what he could do with her. What ithey/i could do with her. His mandables adjusted to a frown. "Remove your mask. We will learn as we go."


	4. III

Chapter 3:

Jesse found herself coming down from her high; but the two male alien's weren't. One came from behind, and touched her sides, almost cautiously, like she was a small, frail animal who needed medical attention for a wounded leg. Maybe they were being cautious because they were scared of _iher/i._

_ i"Wouldn't that be the day,"_/i she thought, squirming away from the touch, but only to be touched from the other side as well. Rippling muscles beneath her made her body ache; not in the good way. She was scared of these beasts, whatever they were. They made her want them, but were scared to know what they were really like, under the masks and the weapons and the armor.

"Wait," she said, quietly, into the scaly flesh that was his neck beneath her face; something had hissed earler, and she hadn't the confidence to open her eyes and see what had been sounded. She didn't particularly want to know. The touches continued, along her sides and down to her hips, back up again only to make another round.

Slowly, one of the hands from her sides traveled to her front and glided down her body to her thigh, and then resumed on her side. Obviously the alien wasn't comfortable with touching her there. Maybe trying to force a noise from her.

Clicks and growls were all she heard, but there were distinct repeats that she started to catch; "Nihkou'te," and "Akan'de."They didn't sound like any names she knew of, but the way they used the words in sentences sounded like it. The one behind her kept on saying the word "Akan'de," over and over to the other. Maybe that was his name.

"Akan'de," she said, a bit too loudly. The word didn't roll of her tongue as well as she would have liked, "W-wait."

The movements stopped, but continued after what felt like a nod. They didn't understand. They couldn't understand – how terrible dumb of her. They were aliens who only copied what she said, how _icould/i_ they know English? She mentally smacked herself, and groaned when sharp nails dug into her sides, and more ripples of muscle came glancing across her front.

Apparently, they understood sounds. They stoped abruptly, almost jumping, at the sound of her discomfort. Things started to click in her mind.

Jess had to open her eyes, no matter how scary, nor gruesome, nor terrifying. She wasn't going to die. She wasn't going to be hurt. She would get her way out of this with wits.

She was smarter than them.

"Akan'de..."easier push of the tongue that time; "Put me down!" she said commandingly, pushing at his shoulders. The monster dropped her, stepping back a few steps, as if she were to lash out and rip their throats out.

With her eyes still closed, Jess could not see the red snow on the ground, or the footprints. She saw black, with small spectrums of color dancing behind her eyelids, as if coaxing her to keep her eyes closed, to stay with the safe, warm, pitch-black sactuary of behind her eyelids. Instead of complying, she opened them to a squint. Her eyes glanced up to see shit-your-pants terrifying faces. A large, elongated head with sunk-in eyes and pronounced eyebrow-bones with no real eyebrows, she stared into sickly yellow eyes. There was no nose, instead, a flat surface with no nostrils or holes. Beneath that were two sets of mandibles attached to large, square chunks of flesh, twitching in almost an expression – and expression that reminded her of fear.

This was Akan'de. He had the lion fish colored skin, and was standing only a few steps away from her, muscles still rippling behind a fishnet type fabric.

Looking to the other one, he looked about the same, but was grey, and looked more angry than anything. With a white-cream spot on his stomach, and dusting his features on his enlarged forehead, eyebrows, jawline (or at least what she saw of it) and the rest of his body, he looked read to pounce. His eyes shone gold, instead of Akan'de's yellow. That must have been Nihkou'te.

She opened her mouth, only to see Nihkou'te take a step forward, open his mandibles wide and let loose a roar that made the woman's eardrums stress. Jess' eyes widened, hands balling into fists.

She wasn't going to cry. Not at some stupid little... _ibig/i_ alien that doesn't like her. Not the big scary teeth, or the big scary crab-face, or the the loud, ear-shattering roar coming her way from his mouth – that weird, lipless mouth.

With a shiver, Jesse found herself pinned; the ferocious beast with the fearsome face on top of her, hissing and growling like a rabid dog. His breath smelled like... male – the only way she describe it. Musky, like the afterstench of sweat, but having more of a nice twist on it. Spicy. She almost wanted to draw closer, but her fluttering eyes caused the male – Nihkou'te, she reminded herself again – to roar again, right in her face. Jess shut her eyes tight, feeling the muscled chest right above her diaphrigham. She was scared, but stubborn.

"G-get off," she murmured, pulling her hands off of the cold, icy ground and putting them on the male beast's shoulders, pushing lightly. "Off."

"... Off," he growled back, tilting his head.

"Y-yes, off. You're on me right now. I want you to get off."

"You're on me," he repeated back, the odd mandibles moving right above her face, almost threatening to drool on her. She didn't have the inkling right then to taste, or feel, what alien drool felt like. She didn't particularly want to know... ever.

Confused for a second, she just shook her head. "No... No, _iyou're/i_ on _ime/i._"

"You're on me."

"No! iYou_/i_ are on ime/i." Jesse's hands fell onto her stomach, feeling as the hands around her head clutched the snow. The male above her was getting frustrated, but so was she.

"No! You are on me!"

"You're on me!" the male repeated back. Hearing some low, rythmic thunder, the other male – Akan'de – was apparently having a nice time watching both of them get angry.

"Fucking Hell! You're on me!"

"Fucking Hell! You're on me!"

"iFUCK!/i Shut up!/i"

"No, you!"

"No, y... you?"

Confused for a minute at the sudden words, she tilted her head, only to get a head-tilt back. Jesse blinked. Was he learning from her getting angry like this?

With another move of his mandibles, and a growl in his throat, she saw that one of the mandibles were lopsided. It looked painful, a gash near the tusk that looked like it wasn't going to heal up any time soon. Though, instead of the red blood inside her, or the caribou, it had lime green blood oozing out slowly.

"What did you just say?" she asked, quietly.

Akan'de, a few feet away, was having a fit of laughter. He couldn't stop – when she looked over, he looked like he was about to piss himself... if this race could piss. She didn't know yet.

The male beast on top of her reminded her that he was there with a curt drop of his weight on her stomach. She gasped as he came down on her. His eyes still glowed that deep golden color that reminded her of wheat, and they said something to her that his words could never: yearning. Like a dog would, for a treat, or wanting to stay outside longer. She didn't understand this sudden look.

"What?" she asked, "What do you want?"

He understood that. His knees came up to behind her legs, pulling them up around his waist with skill she never could have thought; the large waist under her lower frame was... more than large. Massive. He tilted his head the other direction and moved his body towards hers, chest puffing up, as if trying to impress – though, his chest couldn't go far with all that armor on it. She knew what he was getting at.

Akan'de stopped laughing.

Jess' collar was grabbed, yanked, and her body imoved./i She soon found herself on the ground, a few (okay, more than a few) feet away, looking at too aliens – one on the ground, and one standing above him, scolding him in their own language. Was it disrespectful to treat a woman like that in their... land?

i"Land. Ha. What a word, Jess,"/i she thought as she watched Akan'de – the one standing – roar at the other for trying to talk back. She could imagine what they wer e saying.

i"How dare you, young man!"

"I didn't mean it, I swear! It's the hormones!"

"HOREMONES MY ASS!"

"But I –!"

"NO BUTS! GET TO YOUR ROOM!"/i

... Though, this wasn't a family-welcome TV show on Nick-at-Nite. This was two brutes disputing over the use of her body. Her face, at that realization, flushed. She became red, traveling to her ears and down her neck to her chest. She hated it when she blushed. It looked gross and blotchy. However, they were fighting over the use of her body. The thought alone would get a lot of girls off – one of which, Jesse.

She looked up at the aliens, to find that Akan'de was pulling the other one up by his hair, making Nihkou'te howl. He did inot/i like that. Nihkou'te grabbed the other by the neck andd threw him next to Jesse, the massive – to re-use the word – landed next to her with a sickeningly loud crack on the icy-snow ground. His body was unphased though, as the lion fish colored beast got up, straightened himself out, puffed up his chest, and glared at the other.

They were in a fight, and she knew it could only go down from there. She wouldn't have been surprised if they started to bite, and inflict damage with those powerful mandibles on their face. But they kept it strictly hand-to-hand combat with no cheap shots, as if there had already been pre-set rules. When one's guard went down – usually Nihkou'te, Jesse soon realized – the other one went for the face with a strong, rigid hand. That mandible on the poor grey alien wasn't getting better. The bright green blood finally started to drip down his face, onto his bronze-looking armor, the tusk almost scraping against his sharp teeth and flesh.

"H-hey, guys, stop," she said, standing up slowly. It had been the first time she stood since before her ex – whatever happened to him – Trent pinned her down.

Nihkou'te let down his guard again, gaining him another sharp tap to the face. Though, Jess could hardly call it a "tap" when it came around swinging. She could hear the bone crack in that one. He bounced back, angry as ever, only to let her see another break in the same mandible.

"Hey! Come on, this isn't fair!" she growled, getting angry. Obviously, Akan'de had to be more experienced. Somehow, he just had to be naturally better. Didn't that count as an unfair advantage? She didn't know, she was never in sports. "Guys! iGuys!/i"

Another sharp smack to the side of the grey alien's head, and he was down on the ground, holding his face with a large hand, glaring up at the other in a matter of moments.

"Pa'uk-de," he growled. She instantly connected it to the swear word "Fucker" be it intuition or just similar concinents and vowels.

"Yeah! Yeah, you tell him!" she snapped, stomping forward. Akan'de looked back at her, scowling with his entire face. Jess stopped, taking a step back when she saw the scornful look in his yellowed eyes. His entire body told her to stay away from the other alien, or just them in general.

She didn't know if it was to protect her, or protect them.

Slowly, he started to help his comrade up under her watchful eye. Confused as ever, Jess didn't say a word, though she wanted to. She knew he would just pretend he didn't understand – which, he might not have, but she didn't know that – and walk away.

There was always time though.

"You're disgusting, I hope you know that," Akan'de growled at Nihkou'te, glaring at him. They realized that the ooman was not hurt, and she didn't want to go into the "meat-bucket," as she said it, so they were letting her walk, trailing close behind them. Sometimes, she caught up to stand up beside them, or she trailed back, looking at the kainde amedha skull or sitting on the sled they were trailing behind them.

"I am not, Akan'de. You just have to get over being so... so... xenophobic," Nihkou'te growled, massaging his mandible gently, sometimes pulling some snow off of the ground to put on it. His mask sat neatly on the top of his head. They were now following Akan'de's mask, which seemed like they were heading in the correct direction. "Oomans are interesting creatures."

"You've only just met the species," Akan'de looked over, his mask drowning out some of his important facial features, but his eyes said it all: "You're a fool."

"I've known about them all my life!" the gray-and-cream-colored alien sounded insulted.

"As have I... As everyone else back on the clanship, but you don't see me trying to go up to some unknowing, unhonorable ooman female and try to... try to ipa'uk/i her in the middle of broad daylight!" he gestured back to the ooman now riding on the edge of the sled, looking intrigued with them. He gently scoffed at her, making her glare back at him. "Not to mention disrespectful."

"You think I was doing that? You think I was trying to pa'uk the ooman?"

"It might have been as well! It looked as if you were full-on mating the little beast!" Akan'de hissed.

"I was... I was showing her my interest, was all," Nihkou'te looked back to the front, to the invisible road they were following.

"With your ka'mak pressed up against her gentailia?"

"B'heru, calm yourself!" Nihkou'te growled, pushing Akan'de gently with the palm of his hand, only to gain an insulted hiss in return, "She didn't seem to mind – almost interested!... Maybe that is what the men of this planet do for trying to court their women!"

"It is inot/i your job, nor your place, to figure it out! That ooman is with child, and if you dare even try to disturb that, I'll know, you musky little rat!"

Akan'de and Nihkou'te hadn't realized they had stopped until the ooman waved her hand at them, yelling almost directly in their ears, only a few feet away. "Why have we stopped?"

Both of them puffed their chests out, frustration filling up inside of them, and then turning. They hurried on, faster than before, still throwing insults back and forth every now and then.


End file.
